


Food and Other Seductions

by SHSL_ex_SOLDIER



Series: they're in lesbians with each other [3]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/F, can a rarepair get any rarer than this?, gotta love my mature lesbians, hello yes i still love these lesbians, i have returned to drag you back into rarepair hell, if you want a juicier fic go back to part 2, last time we saw ohya's weakness, now get ready for takemi's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHSL_ex_SOLDIER/pseuds/SHSL_ex_SOLDIER
Summary: “You’ll find my cooking tastes rather… unique,” Takemi will not give her the satisfaction of losing grace.“So what you’re basically saying is…” Ohya puts her hand on her chin as if in thought, thoughts in Takemi’s expense no doubt. She’s not even being modest about her gloating as evidenced by how her smirk had now evolved into a shit eating grin. “You can’t cook shit.”





	Food and Other Seductions

Takemi will never admit to having fantasies of Ohya seducing her nor will she ever admit on any successful attempts but one thing she is willing to admit is that she never expected to be seduced by Ohya through food.

Or even anticipating the possibility that Ohya knew how to cook in the first place.

“I’m kind of on a tight budget right now but I didn’t want to cancel date night so I hope you don’t mind something home cooked for a change,” Ohya says from the kitchen as she fetches their meal. Although Takemi offered to help with at least setting up the plates, she insisted that she’d set up everything on her own.

When Ohya suggested that they eat at her place, Takemi was thinking along the lines of getting take-out. Never did it cross her mind that Ohya was offering to cook them dinner. She’s seen Ohya hold glasses filled with alcohol so much that she can’t imagine her holding anything else in the kitchen. So now that she’s faced with the reality that Ohya does in fact cook, it has her confused. And… dare she say it? _Impressed._

“I’ll be honest here,” Takemi starts once Ohya is in earshot. “I didn’t even know that you were capable of anything remotely... domestic.”

“Hey, I take offense to that!” Ohya’s head pops out from the doorway just to shoot her with a glare.

Takemi barely flinches. “Your laundry is literally on the floor,” She retorts, unimpressed.

“Yet! I haven’t done the laundry yet,” Ohya corrects her. She will not take this blasphemy in her home. “Geez, cut me some slack here. This is my own home you know.”

“Oh, I know. I can tell by the lack of organization.” Takemi is polite enough not to point out all of the damning evidence literally littered all over the place.

Just because they were at Ohya’s home doesn’t mean she won’t throw shade over Takemi’s. “Not all homes can be gothic like yours.”

“Punk goth actually.” The insult just bounces off Takemi who actually takes pride in her tastes.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Ohya practically scoffs. “Your house is _punk goth_ while you’re chewing my ass just because mine is just a bit messy.”

“Just a bit?” Takemi asks knowing her girlfriend can’t talk her way out of incriminating evidence.

“Okay maybe a bit more,” Ohya knows her house is a mess but that doesn’t mean she likes to admit it. A journalist has to report nothing but the truth but she’s off-duty right now. Still, she won’t settle for being the only one attacked here. “But I’m not the adult here who never outgrew their grunge phase.”

She doesn’t miss the specific and leading use of words. “You just want me to say, ‘ _It’s not a phase_ ’, don’t you?”

“Well, will you?” She wags her eyebrows at her, half expecting and half urging her on.

“No.” The rejection falls flat.. Takemi then begins to pick up the scattered clothes and folding them after. She even nonchalantly picks up the undergarments. It’s not like she hasn’t seen them before although she does try not to remember the times she has seen them. It’s easier to forget when she thinks that she shouldn’t even be picking up after her girlfriend. “Next time just do your laundry when you know you’ll be having guests.”

“Thanks for the advice, _mom_.” And although she couldn’t see Ohya’s face, she could hear in her voice that she was rolling her eyes.

“Now look who’s being childish,” She calls her out but her girlfriend just laughs her off.

The banter continues until the food is finally served. Beef stew, nothing too fancy and at least it’s not something that can be bought pre-packaged and instantly cooked. Takemi feels a bit guilty when she expected something more mundane like omelette or curry. She’s just not sold yet on the whole reality that Ohya can in fact cook. But when she brings a portion to her mouth, she’s convinced that there is no other reality she’d rather be in.

“Mmm, not bad,” Takemi humbly praises as she takes in another bite, savoring it because it was honestly good but also to hide just how much she was enjoying her meal. She didn’t want to give Ohya that satisfaction, not when she was wearing her triumphant smirk.

“You know, it won’t kill you to be honest once in awhile,” Ohya goads her, her tone practically gloating.

Well, this dish did indeed deserve praise. “Then perhaps just this once.” She deliberately takes in another mouthful and chews on it first, leaving Ohya in suspense. Takemi thought that small action would annoy her but when she stole a glance across, she was surprised to see how excited she still looked as she patiently waited. Maybe seeing her girlfriend enjoy the food she made, makes Ohya happier than the actual words Takemi was about to say. When she opens her mouth again, she has half the mind to take another bite and she does, but not before saying, “This tastes better than what I’d expect from you.”

Ohya snorts into her own bowl. “You suck at complimenting people. But I’ll take it.”

They both happily dig in after that. The silence was only punctuated by the sound of chopsticks. Takemi may have eaten more than her usual portion. If Ohya noticed, she didn’t make any comments. She does however laugh when they practically empty her pot, she points out that she was expecting some leftovers for breakfast but she’s not at all disappointed. Unlike Takemi, Ohya is brave enough to admit that she ate more than her usual since sharing always makes any food taste better, and Takemi silently agrees with a nod.

When Takemi offers to do the dishes, this time Ohya does not deny her. Now they’re both in the kitchen, still in silence, Takemi washing the dishes with Ohya idly standing by. Even though it’s usually Ohya’s job to start the conversation, she’s uncharacteristically quiet. Well, not exactly. She’s not talking but instead she’s just humming happily. It doesn’t take much to guess as to what she was happy about. Meanwhile Takemi is left to her own thoughts. That beef stew was more delicious than it had any right to be. Despite finishing practically half a pot of it, she’s still in disbelief that it was Ohya of all people who had cooked it. Not that she was complaining, it was quite the enjoyable meal.

Now that Takemi’s confirmed it with her own taste buds, she wants to know more. What else can Ohya cook? Is it out of hobby or of necessity? Probably the latter but she still wants to know for sure. If she asks, would she cook for her again? There’s also the question of who the better cook is but… well, she already knows the answer to that. The questions keep coming and Ohya just keeps humming and Takemi couldn’t handle her curiosity on her own any longer.

“So… you cook a lot?” She winces at the subtlety or lack thereof.

“How else do you think I can afford all those expensive drinks at Crossroads? Certainly not from my minimum wage paycheck,” Ohya answers with a wave of her hand. Now that she mentions it, that certainly explains her finances and her vices.

“Interesting…” Takemi makes a mental note of that information. For a practical woman, Ohya has some impractical practices. “So you scrimp on food and yet spend irresponsibly on alcohol.”

“Well I have to have at least one flaw or else I’d be too perfect!” Ohya declares all too confidently. She makes her flaw sound more like a charming point.

Takemi is hardly sold on the idea. “You flatter yourself too much.”

“Just stating facts,” Ohya casually brushes off her deflection. By this point, Takemi is done with the dishes and is drying her hands. Ohya readily hands her a tall glass of water, beaming. “So? What about you? You cook?”

Ah, of course she’d return the question. Takemi should have expected this when getting into this line of questioning. She tries her best not to lose her calm composure and settles with a vague but safe answer, “I’d rather not.”

“Why not?” Ohya tilts her head innocently enough even though the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips is anything but innocent. Teasing.

“You’ll find my cooking tastes rather… unique,” Takemi will not give her the satisfaction of losing grace.

“So what you’re basically saying is…” Ohya puts her hand on her chin as if in thought, thoughts in Takemi’s expense no doubt. She’s not even being modest about her gloating as evidenced by how her smirk had now evolved into a shit eating grin. “You can’t cook shit.”

And there it is. The true reason as to why Takemi refuses to admit that Ohya can actually cook is because Takemi ironically can’t. And it absolutely _frustrates_ her.

“I choose not to,” Takemi corrects her even though there’s nothing inherently wrong with the statement in the first place.

“Because you’d burn your house down. Smart choice,” Ohya pats her on the back consolingly. This is why Takemi refuses to show any weakness in front of her girlfriend. Give her any hint and she’ll return it tenfold, maybe more considering her sharp wit.

“Do you want to break up?” Takemi shoots her a glare that could have killed a man. Luckily for Ohya, she’ll live another day. It just bounces off her girlfriend’s laughing form.

“Heh, sorry not sorry babe.” She’s still laughing when she hugs Takemi from behind. When Takemi breaks away from the embrace annoyed, Ohya doesn’t exactly make things better by doubling over with laughter. “Can you blame me? For all those times you’ve been on my ass about health and all that, turns out you’re not exactly practicing what you preach.”

Takemi’s face is red and she would never admit that it was from embarrassment. She keeps her words curt and her tone sharp. “Excuse you, just because I don’t cook doesn’t mean my diet isn’t well-balanced.”

“Oh, really?” She goads her on. She rarely gets this upper hand on her role model of a girlfriend so now that she does, she’s going to pull out everything she can from this. Ohya’s is having way too much fun watching her girlfriend squirm uncomfortably. “And where exactly do you get this well-balanced diet that I’ve only heard of in myths and false advertising?”

But Takemi hardly flinches under her teasing. After all, she’s a perfectly rational adult who can handle taunts maturely. “I buy take-out.” When she sees Ohya just about to make a snide comment, she doesn’t give her that chance. Instead she adds on, “And no, I’m not talking about convenient store packaged or fast food.”

Well that certainly is something. Ohya frowns at this admission. That’s not exactly the blackmail material she was going for. She was hoping for something juicier like her girlfriend being on a shameful fast food diet. She knows just how much of a responsible adult Takemi is, it’s just a bit disappointing that even her flaws aren’t that too bad. Not that she wants her girlfriend to have serious flaws but she just wants something to argue with the next time Takemi calls her out on her drinking. Seriously though, never cooking but still maintaining a healthy diet? That’s hardly something fun to poke at. It is however, hard to believe in.

“Damn, how can you afford all that?” Ohya questions her in a tone that’s mixed with both disbelief and envy. It’s not like she wants that ‘no cook all buy healthy diet’ but she’s more interested at the implications of that. She thinks that with that kind of disposable income she could afford the fancier bottles at Crossroads.

She’s been with Ohya long enough to know just what she was thinking. She flatly answers, “Unlike you, I don’t put my hobbies a priority on my budget.”

Ohya just snorts at the accusation. She suspects other reasons at play. “That and doctors get paid more than just the peanuts we journalists make.”

“That too.” Takemi doesn’t deny that fact. They don’t need to compare checkbooks to know which of them has the larger salary.

When Ohya wraps her arms again around Takemi, her girlfriend doesn’t resist. And naturally, Ohya couldn’t resist a quick kiss. She feels Takemi melt just a bit in her arms and it is a rewarding feeling. She nuzzles into her girlfriend’s hair. Unlike Ohya who probably smells like the beef stew from earlier, Takemi smells of that cologne that oddly reminds Ohya of whiskey. Strong. Intoxicating. Absolutely expensive. She briefly recognizes the fact that it’s not just good food that Takemi can afford.

“Lucky. I could never afford that kind of living.” She sighs into her hair, unintentionally breathing hot air on Takemi’s sensitive ears. It’s a shame that from her angle she couldn’t see the rosy flush on her girlfriend’s skin.

“Is that what you think? I believe you’re the lucky one,” Takemi retorts wistfully, letting the warmth of her girlfriend embrace her. She remembers all those nights spent alone, eating alone, sleeping alone. They weren’t bad memories per se, but they were just a bit lonely. “I couldn’t afford the time to learn to cook for myself once I started my studies in medicine. Then once I got a job in a general hospital, I was so absorbed in work that I practically lived on overtime. I couldn’t afford the time to spend in the kitchen,” She recounts somberly. Cooking was never a priority in her profession.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense.” Ohya nods on her shoulder. The backstory fit with the facts however, she thinks that the story sounds just a bit outdated. “But you don’t work in a hospital anymore. Don’t you have your own clinic now?” She’s been there numerous times and no matter the time, every hour was a slow hour there. She doubts that Takemi does overtime, a couple of house calls maybe but nothing that would have her stay for hours and never too often in a week. She doesn’t hesitate to point out the obvious yet ignored fact, “Shouldn’t you have the time to start learning?”

Takemi snorts at the same question she’s asked herself a number of times before. And so just as always, she answers it the same way, “At this point, I’m too lazy to even try.”

“It’s annoying when you say that because you can afford that luxury.” Ohya blows a raspberry on her cheek just because. When Takemi laughs, it’s hard to tell whether it’s from the comment or from the raspberry. It’s a wonderful sound nonetheless. It soothes Ohya’s irritation just enough to put her back into a teasing mood. “You do know that you need to know how to cook. We’re not getting any younger.”

It’s rare to hear a joke about their age from Ohya. It’s actually less of a joke and more of an advice. And Takemi is more used to giving out advice rather than taking it. “When I reach that point in age where I can’t get take-out anymore, I’ll just hire someone to cook for me.”

Ohya immediately objects to that solution. “Don’t bother.” Something shifts along with her tone. It sounds casual enough but Takemi knows her enough to tell that she’s actually serious. When she catches a sideways glance at Ohya’s eyes, she sees no humor only determination. And when her lips part, it’s a declaration. “I’ll just cook for you then.”

Neither of them blink nor back down.

“Really? And you’ll do it for free?” Takemi challenged her, testing just how serious she is on this.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s free.” Ohya licks her lips, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Takemi’s appreciative gaze. She doesn’t know which is hotter, the lip lick or the devilish smirk. “I mean, it’s only fair, right? You get a hot chef who cooks your meals meanwhile I get a hot doctor who does house calls.”

“Oh, so are you proposing a partnership of some sorts?” Takemi keeps her voice level, not hinting her stance on the matter. She keeps her eyes on Ohya, taking in every subtle change and noting down they’re possible meanings. But as she’s about to find out, she doesn’t have to think too hard on what her girlfriend is thinking.

“Yeah, I’m proposing,” Ohya flatly admits.  
She drops it so casually, so easily, so _naturally_ , that she makes it sound like she’s just talking about something just as natural as the weather. And maybe that’s her point. Them getting married is just natural.

So naturally, Takemi only has one answer to that, “Do you have the rings ready?”

The only answer she receives is her girlfriend’s lips hungrily upon hers with the taste of beef stew blending in with the sweetness of the moment creating an indescribable flavor that she thinks just might be her new favorite.

* * *

**BONUS: Groceries is Our Forever**

“You’re getting that?” Takemi sounded absolutely offended as she watched in horror while her fiancée picked poison after poison and placed them all in their shopping cart.

“And why wouldn’t I?” Ohya pauses as if she’s seriously considering hearing out the reasons. Her well practiced smile says otherwise.

“Because the nutritional value in that package alone should be illegal,” Takemi points out what she’s been saying the whole time. She may not be a nutritionist but she does have some expertise on the topic. It should be common sense to listen to a doctor regarding these matters but unfortunately, all logical reason does not apply to her fiancée when it comes to groceries.

“Maybe so.” Ohya just tosses the can in the cart with a smug expression, maintaining eye contact with her fiancée all throughout this just for that extra distance of annoyance.

“Did you even hear what I just told you?” A frustrated sigh escapes her lips. Takemi doesn’t even know why she bothers but then she remembers that she shares the groceries with her.

“Yes. Did you see the part where I ignored it?” She says it so casually, so innocently, that it was so damn infuriating. Takemi could feel her blood pressure rise from the smirk alone. And to make matters worse, Ohya just added another package of edible poison to the cart.

“Fine. I will tolerate that one.” Tolerate is such a loose word. Takemi’s crossed arms screamed disapproval. And her glare? Absolutely devastating. She would have burned holes into the offending items if only it was physically possible. She wouldn’t mind just burning the cursed groceries as a feasible alternative. “But we are not getting the cancer packet you just put in the cart.”

“It’s okay. You can call it popcorn.” Meanwhile Ohya is taking all the glares in stride. She’s survived these food before and she certainly will live through a few scathing glares from her fiancée.

“Have you at least considered the options I gave you?” Takemi prayed that her fiancée at least looked at them. Before they went grocery shopping, they had checked inventory first. It’s then that Takemi discovers all of the unadvisable food items that Ohya seems to eat on an alarmingly daily basis. So instead of just asking her to give up on them, she prepared a list of items that could satisfy the cravings but with more nutritional value.

Ohya scoffed. Yeah, right. _Options_. “Oh, did you mean _starving_?” And just to further cement her stance, she adds two more of her unhealthy choices into the cart. She blows a flying kiss at her fiancée and sweetly explains, “Seriously, babe, I love you but I would rather die from cancer than live a long life eating healthy but otherwise disgusting shit.” She makes a sour face as she recalls a few of the cursed healthy options. “Gluten-free? Really? Because the price tag makes it clear that I’m paying more for less.”

“I’m paying for half of the bill anyways,” Takemi argues with her salary. She doesn’t even need to point out just how easily she could afford more than half.

“And I’m not paying for food that I won’t ever touch,” Ohya firmly objects. “The problem isn’t the price, it’s the taste. And it is a universal rule that anything that tastes good is bad for you. I know the risks. I just take them anyways.”

“You’re shaving years off your lifespan,” Takemi warns her, partly as a doctor and partly as a concerned fiancée.

“Long life is overrated anyways.” Ohya simply shrugs off caution. “Don’t you know it’s about the quality of life rather than the quantity of life? What’s the point of living past a hundred if you’re not allowed to eat deliciously unhealthy grub? That’s not living anymore, that’s just surviving.”

While that was a nice speech, it does nothing to support Takemi’s cause. She resigns herself with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t understand how the meals you cook are surprisingly well balanced however I can’t say the same for your snacks.”

“What can I say? I like to live dangerously every now and then.” Ohya playfully winks.

“Too dangerously.” Takemi just shakes her head. She doesn’t think that her fiancée truly grasps the realistic and long-term danger of an awful diet. She supposes that she has to speak to her in terms more understandable. “You know, if you keep this diet up, I’ll most likely outlive you… Old and alone. Because a certain someone had to die too soon.” She nonchalantly drops.

And Ohya’s jaw also drops. “Babe, that’s not fair and you know it.” She pouts at such an underhanded move.

“You know what else isn’t fair? When I have to live a couple more years wondering why some people could be fine with dying early,” Takemi casually but also mercilessly continues. She could practically see her fiancée’s resolve crumble. Ohya’s pout gets tugged with every word until she’s frowning. Takemi innocently bats her eyelashes at her. She knows she’s won the moment that Ohya breaks eye contact.

“Okay, fine!” Ohya grumbles, not at all happy at what she’s agreed to. “I’ll cut back on the snacks. And I’ll try some of… one of your suggestions!”

“That’s an acceptable compromise.” Takemi’s smile was genuine. She’ll take this small victory for now and try to shoot for a higher goal next time.

“I was going to cook your favorite dish tonight but I changed my mind.” Ohya suddenly decides on just out of spite.

“I… I can live with that.” Takemi won’t deny that she’s disappointed but it’s a small price to pay in exchange for her fiancée’s longevity.

“Oh, and I’m not just talking about tonight. For every deliciously unhealthy snack I don’t eat, I won’t cook your favorite side dish.” Now it was Takemi’s turn to pout but Ohya merely kisses her. “Just so you know ‘cause we’re both in this for the long run.”

They’ll figure out the rest after they do the groceries.

**Author's Note:**

> What's better than lesbian girlfriends? Lesbian wives. The next time I'm writing these lesbians they'll be married, you're welcome.


End file.
